I Shouldn't Be Alive
by The End of Always
Summary: Oneshot AU during In My Time of Dying. Warnings: suicide. Rated T for profanity and dark themes. Dean is convinced he should have stayed dead, and nothing Sam does will convince him otherwise.


Dean sat on the edge of the bed and looked at his real body, kept alive by machines. Dean almost wished the heart monitor would flatline - anything would be better than this endless waiting. He didn't have Sammy to hold him together this time. He was alone.  
Sammy sat in a chair on the opposite side if Dean's bed, his head in his hands. He blamed himself. If only he could have done _something_. Dean wanted to tell him that it wasn't his fault, but no matter how loudly he screamed, Sammy couldn't hear. They were both alone.

"Look, Sammy, I know you can't hear me, so I know it's safe for me to tell you anything. First, I want to say that it's not your fault. Seriously dude, there's nothing you could've done. Hell, I'm screwed anyway. Maybe this way I can finally get some peace. Maybe this is better. I've always put you before me, Sam. Just this one, let me be selfish and do something for me. Let me die."

Dean paused and brushed away a tear, angry at himself for being so weak. "I'm sorry, Sammy. At least you're okay. That's what really matters. That's what Dad always says. It doesn't matter what happens to me, as long as you're okay. Truth is, I haven't been okay in a long time. We give up so much for the job, Sammy. I've given everything - every single dream I've ever had. You think I didn't want to go to school? Well I did. I wanted to so badly, but I gave it up for you. To protect you. I'm tired, Sam. I just want to let go. I gave up a long time ago. I've just been keeping my game face on for your sake, little brother. That's my job, after all. Keep my pain in the ass little brother safe." Dean laughed, but there was no humor in it, only pain.  
Across the room, Sammy sighed and stood up. "I will find a way to save you, Dean." He looked over at where Dean's spirit was sitting, and Dean could have sworn that he smiled sadly. But that wasn't possible. He must have imagined it.  
"Maybe I don't want to be saved."

Dean snapped awake suddenly with no clue where he was. When he realized he was in a hospital, he was furious. "Damn it, Sam, you know the rules. No hospitals!"  
"Dude, we've got bigger problems. The demon. It...it got Dad."  
"That's impossible." Sam shook his head and called for a nurse to help Dean out of all the tubes that had been keeping him alive. She looked shocked when she saw him sitting up.  
"But...that's not possible. You were dying!"  
"Well I'm all better now, sweetheart." Dean winked, but his heart wasn't in it. Dad was...he couldn't be...dead? No, it just wasn't possible. He wouldn't let it be true.  
When the nurse had extricated him from all those damn machines, he and Sammy ran out of the room, ignoring her protests. Sammy led Dean to a nearby room where doctors were trying to restart their father's heart. Dean could tell it wasn't going to work. He turned away, determined not to let Sam see the tears in his eyes.  
"He made a deal, didn't he, Sammy? He must have. That nurse said I was dying, and now I'm suddenly fine? He must have summoned that son of a bitch and made a deal with it. I shouldn't be alive."  
"Don't talk like that, Dean. I heard you, you know. When you were a spirit. I think I was the only one who could. And I'm not leaving you alone until you're better. You're not going to do anything stupid while I'm around."  
"Dude, I'm _fine_." Dean started walking away, a single tear escaping. He wiped it away furiously. Pathetic.  
"No, Dean, you're not. I can help you. Stop pushing me away!" Sammy grabbed Dean's arm.  
"Sammy, I've given up everything. Let me be selfish, just this once."  
"No. I'm not letting you kill yourself."  
"Try and stop me."  
Dean checked himself out of the hospital, and an hour later they were back on the road. Sammy hadn't left Dean alone, not even for an instant.  
They rented a room for a couple of nights in a cheap motel. Dean ordered pizza and tried to send Sam out for beer, but he wouldn't leave Dean by himself. In the end, Dean settled for some soda from the vending machine down the hall, though he grumbled a lot about it.  
"How about for tonight, we forget about hunting? Watch crappy tv, eat pizza, drink soda. Watcha think, Sammy?"  
"Sure. We can do whatever."  
"Well aren't you just the life of the party." Dean switched on the television and found some late-night drama. Then he settled into bed with a plate heaped full of pizza and a can of soda.  
The next day, Sam let Dean sleep in. He thought maybe Dean would see some sense if he got plenty of rest. He couldn't kill himself. He just couldn't. How was Sam supposed to manage on his own?  
Dean woke up about mid morning. "So what's the plan for today, Sammy? Heard of any good bars around here? I'd love some quality time with a hot chick tonight."  
"No hot chicks, Dean. And no drinking either. You're not leaving this motel until I know for sure that you're okay."  
"God damn it, Sam, I've told you, I'm fine."  
"No amount of fake smiles is going to convince me to let you out of my sight." Dean sighed. This was going to be harder than he'd thought. He supposed he'd have to wait until Sammy was asleep tonight, then go get a gun from the Impala. In the meantime, he had to convince Sammy nothing was wrong.  
"Whatever you say. Bitch."  
"Jerk."  
Dean settled down with a promising-looking magazine. A girl in a very small bikini took up most of the cover. Sam rolled his eyes and got out his laptop, deciding to do some research while he kept half an eye on his big brother. He might as well find them their next job.  
That night, Dean pretended to be asleep until Sammy was snoring away in the other bed. Then he got up and tiptoed over to Sammy's laptop, next to which Sammy had conveniently left the key to the motel room. Dean silently unlocked the door and slipped out into the dimly lit hallway.  
He unlocked the Impala and opened the trunk. A vast array of weapons lay spread out before him, and he chose a handgun. He'd always fought with a gun in his hand. What a fitting way to die. _Sorry, Sammy. _Sammy would have to clean up the mess. But he didn't want to ruin his baby, and he didn't want to die outside in the freezing cold. The only other place he could think of was the motel room. As long as Sammy didn't wake up before he pulled the trigger, everything would be fine.  
Dean walked back along the hallway, gun dangling limply in his hand. He unlocked the door to their room as quietly as he could, and walked over to his bed. He sat down, and stared at the gun in his hand. Slowly, almost mechanically, he lifted the gun so that the barrel was resting against the side of his head.  
He didn't realize he was crying until a sob escaped. He held his breath, hands shaking, tears streaming down his face._ Please, Sammy, don't wake up. I have to do this. I have to_.  
Sammy woke up.  
"DEAN!" Sammy screamed when he saw Dean sitting with a gun pressed to his head. Dean pointed the gun at him.  
"Stay back, Sammy. I have to do this. I'm so tired, Sammy. So tired. I just want it to be over. Dad's dead because of me! How the hell am I supposed to live with that? How the hell am I supposed to just move on, keep hunting, keep giving? What if I lose you next? I can't do this anymore. I'm sorry, Sammy. I'm so sorry. I know I'm a failure. I just can't protect you anymore. I've never done a single thing for myself and I'm sick of giving everything I have. Now I get to be free. Now I finally get to do something for myself. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry. Goodbye, Sammy. I love you. Bitch."  
In one fluid movement, Dean put the gun back to his head and, before Sammy could move or cry out, pulled the trigger. He collapsed to the floor in a mess of blood, leaving Sammy screaming and sobbing. He sank to the floor next to his big brother, begging Dean to come back. Begging anyone he could think of, every higher power. But Dean's body was already cooling. He was gone. Sammy was alone.  
"Jerk."


End file.
